


as milady commands

by hapakitsune



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hate you," Arya said two minutes later when Gendry still hadn't stopped laughing. "You are the worst fake boyfriend in the world."</p>
            </blockquote>





	as milady commands

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to lallypops for the brit-pick! any further mistakes are mine. also, I am sorry.

"Gendry," sang out a high, familiar voice, echoing around the garage. " _Gendry_!"

Grendry couldn't help the grin that snuck across his face at the sound, but he let out a loud, stage groan and turned, flinging his oil-stained rag over his shoulder, and – froze. 

He had known the Stark family for his whole life, had grown up with Jon and Robb, and had lived off of Ned Stark's generosity for years until he had been able to take what he had learned from years of work and open his garage. Arya had always been around, bright and precocious and tomboy-ish, ready and willing to learn about anything he would teach her. He remembered her as a scrubby child, forever escaping her mother's attempts to make her look more like the lady she was, not this tall, coltish young woman with short hair and the kind of casual clothes that only good money could buy.

He realized, suddenly, that Arya Stark had grown up.

Arya grinned at him, apparently not noticing his surprise, her smile blindingly white and brilliant, and bowed dramatically as she said, "Guess who is home from school!"

Gendry swallowed, hard, and said, "I feel like I should be bowing to you, milady."

She laughed and said, "I told you not to call me milady," but she came over and gave him a hug anyway, tight and happy, and Gendry hugged her back instinctively even though she was tall and muscled, not the scrawny, skinny twelve year old he remembered.

"What have you been doing at university?" he asked when she slid away, still grinning, because she had lost all of her remaining baby fat. She had always been active, but he didn't remember her being this strong. 

"Fencing," Arya said. "And archery. And rowing." She beamed and flexed her bicep. "I bet I could take you in a fight now."

"You wish," said Gendry, suddenly feeling as though he was on firmer ground. He remembered Arya trying to knock him down when she was younger, and he grinned. "Although I'm sure you would be very good at stabbing me with a sword."

Arya nodded. "I would." She leaned down to look at the car he was working on, her face bright with curiosity, and she asked, "What's the problem here?"

And cars, cars he could tell her about, so he leaned in alongside her and showed her what he was doing. 

 

Every Friday, Gendry was cordially invited to dine at the Stark household, which really meant that he was cordially ordered to dine with them because Lady Catelyn had take a determined liking to him once she had discovered that the Queen didn't like Gendry and had chosen Gendry as her pet project. Gendry usually went about once a month, using work as an excuse the rest of the time even though that always gave Lady Catelyn a reason to protest that Gendry could be doing so much more with his skills than working as a mechanic and occasional chauffeur. 

The first Friday after Arya arrived home, Gendry spent an hour trying to pick out clothes for himself, ignoring the voice in his head that said, _Arya isn't going to care what you're wearing_ , and even made an effort to comb his hair back, although he quickly decided that it looked stupid. 

It was a true family dinner, he discovered when he came inside. Sansa was home from university as well, and Jon and Robb had apparently both been given leave to greet their youngest sister. Even Theon was there, although he seemed sulkier than usual and didn't speak to anyone. 

The Duke greeted Gendry with the same fondness that he always offered, slightly distant but sincere nonetheless. The Duchess kissed his cheek and insisted that he take the seat next to Arya because, "Otherwise she and Sansa will just get into a fight."

"Hey!" Arya said indignantly, and Robb and Jon snorted with laughter. 

Gendry still felt overawed at Winterfell, despite having spent much of his childhood in its walls. He had lived with a foster family for most of his life, and going from their ordinary middle-class home to the soaring walls and ancient stone of the Stark family estate was like stepping back in time. Despite their friendliness, too, Gendry had never felt truly at home with the Starks, had never really understood why the Duke had taken an interest in a poor orphan. They treated him like family, but he knew that he would always be an outsider, even more than Theon, who at least had a title to fall back on. 

The maid had to fetch Rickon and Bran from the grounds, and they came bounding inside, followed by the family dogs. Catelyn raised her eyebrows and Bran reluctantly shooed the dogs back outside, pouting all the while. 

"But Mum," he whined, "it's going to _snow_ tonight."

"We'll let them inside then," Catelyn said. "Now go wash your hands. You too, Rickon."

Gendry sat down gingerly next to Arya, who had sprawled out on her seat with careless abandon. "This place hasn't changed."

"Winterfell will never change," Arya said dryly. She tilted her head to the side and studied him. "You haven't changed."

"You have," Gendry said. "I almost didn't recognize you."

"Because I'm so tall?" Arya asked eagerly. "Mum always said I would never be as tall as Sansa –"

"You're still not as tall as me," Sansa said in a bored voice, not looking up from her book.

"—but _anyway_ ," Arya said, glaring at her sister, "I _am_ tall, aren't I?"

"It was because you've gotten so ugly," Gendry teased, and then he said, "Ouch!" when Arya punched him in the shoulder.

Dinner was chaotic as always, with everyone talking over each other, and Theon getting a call from his sister halfway through that ended in the usual shouting match, and Rickon sneaking out to feed the dogs. Arya ate like she hadn't eaten in years, which wasn't a change, really, and Sansa picked at the salad and a small piece of chicken until Lady Catelyn forced her to eat the potatoes, too. 

"Gendry," Robb said later on, when Arya was doing her best to eat three pieces of pie, "have you thought any more about coming to join Jon and me? The military could use someone like you."

Gendry sighed, because this was an old argument that never seemed to die. "I've told you I have no interest in service."

What he didn't say is that their father had taken him aside when he turned eighteen and explained the real reason that Gendry had been taken in by the Starks; that his father was the king and that no one could know that, even if there were no other true heirs to the throne. Joining the military would put him in dangerous proximity to the queen's brother, who would be sure to recognize King Robert's looks in Gendry's face. Gendry's friendship with the Stark boys was already been suspect enough; if the press investigated any closer into Gendry's family, it could cause a national scandal.

It had been a shock to learn that, and Gendry had spent several days in his room at home, staring at photos of the king on Google and wondering how he had never noticed. In King Robert's younger photos, in particular, he looked just like Gendry. 

It was strange to think that if the king had just married his mother, he might have ended up prince rather than an abandoned orphan living in foster care. He thought he preferred the life he had ended up with, though, and he saw no reason to jeopardize it. 

"Gendry likes cars better than people," Arya said through a mouthful of apple pie, and Lady Catelyn clicked her tongue at her disapprovingly while Jon and Robb laughed. 

After dinner, Robb disappeared to go take his current girlfriend out for a midnight drive (Gendry snorted and discreetly slipped a condom into Robb's pocket because he always forgot), and Sansa went upstairs to talk to her friend Shae, and Jon volunteered to supervise Bran and Rickon while they played with the dogs. Gendry realized, far too late, that he had been left alone with Arya, who had sprawled out over a sofa in the salon with a look of great contentment on her face. 

"I haven't eaten like that in _ages_ ," she said cheerfully, then said, "Gendry? Are you okay?"

"What?" he asked, startled out of his determined stare at the Stark crest over the fireplace. 

"You looked a bit odd," Arya said, frowning at him. 

"I'm – it's late," Gendry said, even though it was hardly half eight. "I should get back, I have work –"

" _Gendry_ ," Arya said in an exasperated tone of voice. "It's my first night and I haven't seen you in _ages_ , so I would like to talk to you." 

"Talk about what?" Gendry asked dryly. "Boys?"

Arya made a face so horrific that Gendry started laughing. She leaned over and punched him in the shoulder. " _No_. I need a favour."

Those words never boded well for Gendry. "What kind of favour?" he asked. "The last favour I did for you ended up with me nearly getting killed by your bodyguard."

"I promise this is much less dangerous," Arya said, grinning. Then she went red and looked away, which already had Gendry gaping in shock even before she announced, "I need a date."

"You – I – _what_?" Gendry finally managed to say, and Arya shot him a furious, humiliated glance that had him backing down instantly. "Okay, sorry, I just – for what?"

"My friend from uni is getting married weekend after next," she said, making a face, "and I kind of told her I had a date."

Gendry raised his eyebrows. "And?"

"And, okay, look," Arya said, flushing darker red, "everyone at school asks me about whether I have a boyfriend or not and eventually I told them that I did and, err."

"Err?" Gendry started to grin. "Arya –"

"I told them you were my boyfriend!" Arya said, and Gendry started laughing. 

"I hate you," Arya said two minutes later when Gendry still hadn't stopped laughing. "You are the worst fake boyfriend in the world."

"Lady Arya," Gendry said, and he yelped when she hit him, but continued on, "I would be _honoured_ to be your fake boyfriend."

"Good," Arya said, slumping back against the couch. "They all think you're fit, by the way."

"Yeah?" Gendry asked, grinning. 

"I showed them the photos from that beach trip a couple years ago," Arya said, rolling her eyes. "They like Jon, too."

"Jon is very pretty," Gendry agreed. "So when is this wedding?"

"Three weeks," Arya said. "Do you have a suit?"

"Somewhere," Gendry said, nodding. "The one I wore to Jon and Robb's graduation."

"I mean, you could probably wear a tank top and jeans and Lalita would be happy," Arya said hurriedly, "but –"

"Arya, I have a suit," Gendry said, rolling his eyes. "Though I appreciate your faith."

"I'm just saying, Jon and Robb graduated _ages_ ago," Arya said disapprovingly.

"Are you worried about me being unfashionable?" asked Gendry with arched eyebrows. 

" _No_ ," Arya said. "I'm worried about it not fitting you anymore."

Gendry snorted. "Right." He got to his feet and leaned over to ruffle Arya's hair. "I'd better get home, I have work in the morning unlike some people."

"Is that a slur on my birthright?" Arya demanded. "I could have you executed for that!" 

"Good night, Lady Arya," Gendry said firmly, and then had to duck when she threw a book at him. 

 

Gendry had forgotten how awful it was to get fitted for a suit, with all the measuring and prodding and then the interminable waiting.

"Why am I here?" he asked Sansa, who was eyeing him with a frankly terrifying look on her face. "Why are _you_ here?"

"Arya told me you didn't have a suit for the wedding," Sansa said. "I don't like this colour on you. Henry?"

The store attendant, who was hovering nearby, practically ran to Sansa's side. "Yes, Milady?"

"I'd like this cut in a charcoal grey," Sansa said. "And get me a tie that matches his eyes."

"Lady Sansa," Gendry said as Henry hurried away, "it isn't that I don't appreciate your help, but I don't really understand why you're doing this."

"You're taking my sister to a wedding," Sansa said, fixing Gendry with a sharp stare. Sometimes, Gendry kind of missed when Sansa was quiet and shy and a bit dreamy, but he did like this Sansa, who was still as reserved and correct as ever, just also firm and sure of herself. 

"Yes," Gendry said.

"There will probably be photos taken of you," Sansa said. "Arya may not care, but I'd like you to look presentable for her sake."

"Presentable?" Gendry asked, trying not to laugh. 

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid, you know what I mean. You've got a certain something, I suppose, but I have never seen you in anything nicer than that awful suit you wore to Jon and Robb's graduation."

Henry returned before Gendry could reply, and Sansa shooed him back into the changing room to try it on. When he comes out, tugging absently at the tie, Sansa said, "Stop that," and smacked his hand away. 

Then she and Henry had a long, silent conversation with their eyebrows that ended with the two of them staring at him very intently. Gendry fidgeted uncomfortably and did his best to look as presentable as possible. 

Finally, Sansa pronounced, "Perfect," and waves her hand at the suit. "That, and let's get a pocket square to match the tie."

"We will have it tailored to his measurements," Henry said. "Anything else, milady?"

"That's all for now," Sansa said. "Keep his measurements on file."

"Of course, milady," he said, and he hurried off to carry out her wishes. 

"You don't need to do this," Gendry told Sansa as she twitched his tie straighter. "I could buy a suit."

Sansa looked at him steadily. "Gendry," she said, "you may not be a blood member of our family, but we grew up with you. It isn't a bother, really. And Arya asked me to."

"She did?" Gendry asked, startled. 

"She said she was no good at fashion." Sansa's mouth twitched a little. "I'm helping her buy her dress as well, if that makes you feel better."

"A little," he admitted. He turned to look at his reflection in the mirror. "I suppose this looks good."

"Yes," Sansa said, and she rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment before gently pushing him back towards the dressing room. 

He wished he knew how to tell Sansa not to buy him the suit. He felt awful every time the Starks bought something for him, no matter what it was, and he felt worse at birthdays and Christmas, when their gifts for him were always far nicer than the ones he gave them. Gendry was in their debt simply because Ned Stark had chosen to take him under his wing, and he knew full well that he would never be able to pay it back. He didn't enjoy feeling as though he owed them. 

Sansa let him pay for their cab home, clearly sensing that he was feeling guilty, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek when she got out at Winterfell. "Thank you for going to the wedding with Arya," she said. "She's much to proud to say it, but she was terrified at the idea of going alone."

She was gone before Gendry had a chance to ask her what she meant. 

 

Gendry agonized for two days over whether he should buy Arya flowers or something for the wedding and eventually decided that it would be out of place. He regretted it the morning of the wedding when Arya arrived at his flat bearing a small, velvet box. 

"I just thought they looked nice," Arya said, shoving them at him. "Don't make it a thing."

He opened the box and saw a set of golden cufflinks in the shape of bulls' heads. He touched one gently and feels himself getting weirdly choked up. "Arya."

"I just, you had that bull's head sticker on your motorbike when you were in secondary school," she said nervously. "I thought –"

"They're great, Arya," he said, taking one out. "They're perfect. Thank you."

"Oh, good." Arya took off her coat and draped it over one of Gendry's chairs, and Gendry dropped the cufflink in his hand. 

Arya looked – well, he had noticed that she was wearing some make-up, but it wasn't more than she wore for ordinary special occasions – well, she looked grown-up. Her dress was the same shade of blue as Gendry's tie – Sansa's work – and it hugged her body at her breasts and hips, which she _had_ now. 

Gendry quickly looked away and bent to pick up the cufflink. "I'm going to put these on," he said without looking at her, and he retreated into his bedroom to wrestle with his conscience and the new cufflinks. 

The wedding was at a hotel in a town about an hour away, and Arya spent the entire journey telling Gendry about her classes. Gendry drank it in eagerly, having missed Arya's particular kind of babble. She wasn't a talker the same way Lommy was, but she loved to tell stories, and Gendry loved to hear them. 

"Okay," Arya said as they drove into the town where the wedding was being held. "I told them that we've been dating for a year, and you asked me out once you thought my brothers wouldn't kill you."

"Sounds reasonable," Gendry said after a moment. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"I'll let you know," Arya said, and she grins at him. "Just act like you think I'm queen of the world."

"It'll take some acting, but I think I can pull it off," he said, ignoring the part of him that was insisting that it really wouldn't take that much acting. He had always thought the world of Arya, even when Robb and Jon had been in their "our younger siblings are annoying" phase, because Arya was fearless and fierce and impossible and so sure of herself that Gendry had no choice but to admire her. 

"Thanks," she said dryly as she climbed out of the car. "You're so sweet."

Gendry grinned and hurried around to the other side to take Arya's arm. "Might as well get started early," said Gendry when Arya gave him a weird look. 

"Right," she said. "Thank you, I suppose."

Someone called Arya's name, and they both turned to see a girl with bright red hair bounding toward them. "Is this him?" she asked, eyeing Gendry up with a frankly terrifying expression. 

" _Yes_ , Ygritte," sighed Arya. "Please don't scare him off."

"You should have brought your brother," Ygritte said. She had an even more pronounced accent than the other Starks, and Gendry couldn't help smiling a little. "He's awfully pretty, that Jon."

"He's terrified of you," Arya said cheerfully. "He wouldn't come here for love or money."

"He'll fall to my charms eventually," Ygritte said. "Come on, Lalita is having her wedding day breakdown."

Gendry trailed after them, not really sure what else he was meant to do, and found himself in a dressing room full of girls who were attempting to comfort the bride, who was sobbing into her silk sari. He froze, panicked, and saw that Arya had a similar deer-in-headlights look. 

"I should go –" he started to say, and Arya seized him by the wrist, fingers digging into his skin. 

"Don't you dare," she hissed. 

"I am _the only male in this room_ ," he hissed back. "I don't belong here!"

"If I have to be here, so do you," Arya said grimly, and she dragged Gendry over towards the weeping bride. "Lalita, hi."

Lalita looked up and blinked huge, watery eyes at Arya. "Oh, _Arya_ ," she bawled, and she threw her arms around Arya's neck. Arya sighed and rubbed gingerly at Lalita's back. 

"You're going to be fine," Arya said. "You love him, don't you?"

"I do," Lalita said, not moving. 

"So what are you worried about?" Arya asked. 

"What if he doesn't love _me_ anymore?"

"Then he's a dick," Arya said, which made the girls around them giggle. "And don't be ridiculous, I've never seen someone as ridiculous for you as Richard is for you."

"Thank you," Lalita said, pulling back. She finally caught sight of Gendry and blinked rapidly. "Wait, Arya, is this _him_?"

"Hi," Gendry said awkwardly. He nearly flinched as Arya slipped her hand into his. "I'm Gendry."

"Oh, I know _that_ ," Lalita said. "Arya has told us _all about_ you."

Arya turned bright red and said, "Well, if you're finished having your meltdown, I think we'll go find our seats."

"Oh, but I want to ask Gendry all about you," protested Lalita. 

"Reception," Arya said firmly, and she dragged Gendry out of the room. 

She didn't let go of his hand all the way into the hotel ballroom, or even when they were directed to their seats by one of Lalita's family members. 

"Are you nervous?" he asked her finally, because her grip was starting to cut off circulation to his fingers.

She released him and said, "Oh, uh. Sorry. A bit, maybe."

"Afraid they won't get married?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"No, not really." Arya sighed and leaned back in her seat. "It's a little odd to think of one of my friends getting married, I suppose, but they've been dating for years."

"Have you dated much?" Gendry asked curiously, because he hadn't heard anything from Lady Catelyn or Robb or Jon about Arya's love life. 

Arya gave him a look. "Why do you think you're here? I don't like most people, Gendry."

"Okay, fair," said Gendry. "But really, you don't like anyone?"

Arya shrugged. "No one at uni."

It was a curiously specific denial, and Gendry had just opened his mouth to ask her more when the ceremony started, and he had to fall silent. 

 

The reception was wild and huge, and Gendry was tipsy off champagne and martinis from the open bar by the time he finally managed to get Arya alone. She had been talking with friends all night, and Gendry didn't want to make her stop, not when she was smiling like that. 

She seized his hand and pulled him to the dance floor, hissing, "You're not doing a very good job of pretending to be my boyfriend."

"You're busy!" he protested, even as he curled one arm around her waist and pulled her close. "I don't want to take you away from your friends."

"You're supposed to be at my side, fawning," Arya continued, ignoring him. "Then they'll think I'm that much more impressive."

"Why?" Gendry asked, raising his eyebrows. "I thought being a member of one of the oldest noble houses in Britain would be enough."

"Yes, but that's not interesting," Arya said, waving her hand. "Everyone is far more interested in Sansa. She's beautiful, has a new boyfriend every month, is like the ice queen, people think she'll end up as the next queen – and I'm the tomboy sister. But if I'm dating someone as gorgeous as _you_ –"

"You think I'm gorgeous?" Gendry asked, amused. 

"Shut up," Arya said. "I'm drunk."

"Not that drunk," Gendry said, because he had seen her at the Starks' last Christmas party and knew exactly what Arya looked like when she'd had a few too many. 

"Okay," Arya said. "No. But you're not allowed to hold this against me."

"Why would I hold it against you?" Gendry asked. "I don't object to being considered attractive, particularly by you."

Arya squinted up at him and said, "Gendry Waters, are you trying to pull me?"

"I was under the impression that I had already done that, seeing as how I'm your date right now," he said, trying to hide his smile. 

Arya started to smile. "Well, don't get your hopes up. It's only the first date."

"So you think we should have more?" 

"Possibly," Arya said. "I don't find you completely repulsive."

"You said you thought I was gorgeous two seconds ago," Gendry pointed out.

Arya shrugged. "Like I said, not completely repulsive." She was doing a very poor job of hiding her smile, and Gendry had to concentrate hard not to grin like an idiot in response. 

"Well, I wouldn't consider this a date anyway," Gendry said. "My dates are much better than this."

"Are they?" She smirked. "I never saw you with any girls."

"I'm good at keeping things quiet," Gendry said, which is completely true. He had dated a little, though not much, and had even managed to fall in love once, but he had never introduced any of them to the Starks. 

"All right," she said, eyeing him. "Prove yourself. If this were a real date, what would you do?"

He pulled her a little closer against him and leaned down so he could murmur in her ear, "For starters, I would have picked _you_ up from Winterfell. We would go to dinner – some place not too nice so you wouldn't be overwhelmed, but somewhere dark where we could sit in the corner and no one would know if you put your hand on my knee or if I wanted to kiss you."

"Mm," Arya said, voice catching a little. "Not a bad start. And then?"

"We would go somewhere you wanted, maybe a fencing match or a movie, and I'd let you explain things to me," Gendry said, who was well-acquainted with Arya's fondness for being an expert on things. "And then you would choose something for us to do, whatever you wanted, and afterwards I'd take you home and kiss you, just once."

"Yeah?" Arya tilted her head a little, smirking at him. "How would that go?"

Gendry turned his head so that his mouth was just barely brushing hers and said, "I could show you. If you wanted."

Arya's eyelids fluttered a little, and she leaned into him, the warm press of her body against his sending a shudder down his spine. "I'm interested."

He sighed and let himself give into the temptation to kiss her, light and chaste, but there was a heat behind her response that promised so much more. It was hard to make himself pull back, but he did to say, "And then I'd go home so I could call you in the morning."

Arya blinked up at him. "You've given this a lot of thought," she said eventually. 

"Would you like to see it put into practice sometime?" he asked, hardly daring to hope.

"I'd love that," Arya said, and she smiled up at him until he gave in and kissed her again. 

 

"Your mother is going to hate me," Gendry said after their third date, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom as Arya got up to reclaim her underwear from the floor. 

"My mother has been resigned to me being with someone 'unsuitable' since I was five," Arya said. She slid back into bed and laid her head against his bare shoulder. "On the other hand, you might have a very uncomfortable conversation with my brothers."

"I already had one with Sansa," Gendry said, suddenly remembering the suit fitting he had gone to with Sansa. "I think she gave me her blessing."

"Ugh," Arya sighed. "That really should make you less appealing, but somehow it doesn't."

Gendry grinned and carded his hand through her hair. "I'm flattered that my charms outweigh Sansa's approval."

There were other concerns to take into consideration, Gendry knew – the attention that he would get for dating Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell would no doubt be unwelcome, he highly doubted that Lady Catelyn or Lord Stark would actually be overly pleased by the relationship, and he was probably going to have to meet Queen Cersei at some point, which could only end badly. But right now all he cared about was the smell of Arya's hair and the soft press of her limbs against his. He could worry about the rest later.


End file.
